“When your mother died, I swore I would never be enough for you. I mean, who could replace Isamar? I didn’t know how to do any of it because she did it all. I didn’t know how to fill her shoes, and honestly, didn’t know if I wanted to.” He shakes his head with contemplation. “Mijo, I didn’t know how to keep that house running, or how to raise a little boy when I barely understood myself. I was in a dark place, but you were a small flicker of light.”
I clear my throat, trying to hide the emotions that overtake me. We never talk about mom, not because he didn’t try, but I just never wanted to. This time, I listen carefully to what he says. “But you know, I learned. Not because I was ready.” He shrugs. “I learned because you needed me.”
The words pierce straight through me, pulling at emotions I never knew I was capable of feeling. I feel a single tear run down my cheek, my gaze lifting to find him watching as he steps closer. “This is not what I wanted for you, son,perosangre de tu sangre es sangre mía.1 That kid is gonna need someone steady, out of prison. Someone who shows up. Someone who chooses them even when the situation isn’t ideal. Or you're terrified. You never stop being terrified. That's what happens when you become a parent. The fear never leaves, it just blends with the love.”
My throat constricts, making it hard for me to swallow. My mouth is dry, making my voice croak when I speak. “What if I screw up?”
“Then you fix it,” he says, clasping my shoulder, firm and grounding. “That’s what fathers do. Sons, too, when they finally become men. And you’re one of the good ones. One any father would be proud of, I know I am.”
A shaky breath escapes me, my shoulder dropping under the weight of everything I’ve been carrying, allowing him to help me with it.
“Stay for dinner,” he demands because it wasn’t a suggestion. It was a demand from a father to his son. I shake my head, not wanting to stop Ronnie from coming over. I’m sure she would stop by today, after all, it’s her day with Nixie.
“I can’t… Ronnie is with Nix,” I reply, pulling away when I realize it’s getting late, and I should get going before she gets here. “I’ll come over tomorrow for some arroz con guandules and chuleta.”
Dad chuckles. “I’ll be right on it.”
I start to walk away when Dad calls me, “Son…” Causing me to cast a glance over my shoulder. “Let her choose her path. If she comes back, good. If she doesn’t… You choose yours anyway.”
I simply nod, not trusting my voice, before forcing myself to turn away and leave.
1. But But the blood of my blood is mine.
Chapter Forty One
Veronica
Ishouldn’t be here….
I shouldn’t be doing this…
But how do I rationalize anything when my heart screams for him?
Every beat is a song simply for Isaac. There’s no denying it. How much I need… no,want Isaac Vargas. It’s maddening the way I’ve felt about him. And now that I want him to stay away, it’s like ripping something vital away from me. My heart hammers inside my chest, butterflies taking off as I watch the rain cascade across the windshield when Alexa pulls up to the curb in front of his building. My eyes scan the parking lot, expecting to see his Camaro. It’s not here.
Maybe this is my sign that this is a mistake and I should turn away. But I can’t for the first time in my life. I want to be selfish. The storm hasn’t let up tonight. It almost feels personal. Why does it always rain when it comes to us? Is it a warning for us to stay away, or maybe baptism for us every single time? I’m so tired of the rain… My fingers brush against the door handle. For a moment, I panic, hesitating to open the door.
“You don’t have to do this,” Alexa says softly from beside me, my fingers latching on, and with a click, the door opens. I turn around to look at my best friend and smile. “I do.”
She nods, and I finish explaining myself, “He deserves a goodbye.”
Alexa studies my face, the way someone who has loved me through every version of myself, before muttering softly, “Call me when you’re ready. I’ll be up, and Ronnie?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re not abandoning him. You’re choosing yourself. That’s allowed, don’t see it as goodbye, but see you later.”
I nod, because if I speak, I might fall apart right here and not do the only thing I want to do. To be selfish and spend my last night in our hometown in the arms of the man I love. I push open the door and step outside. The cold rain hits me, instantly making me shiver where I stand. It’s heavy and soaking through my sweater, jeans, and all. Closing the door behind me, I wrap my arms around myself and walk towards the back of the building where he usually parks away from anyone who could accidentally dent his car while still giving him a clear view of his prize possession.
I don’t even make it to the spot before headlights sweep across the lot. The familiar growl of the Camaro rolls through the night. My breath catches in my throat, my pulse spiking, and then the car slows down before coming to a full stop in front of me, blinding me with the brightness of the headlights. Using my hand to shield my eyes from the light, I feel like a deer stuck before being struck down, just staring at one another, wondering who should move first, and thankfully, he decides to quickly maneuver around me and park in his usual spot before practically running out of the car, already slipping off his jacket.
“Ronnie. Mi amor, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be with Nixie?” he asks, confused, as he closes the distance between us, his jacket hovering above my head like an umbrella. I nod once, shivering from the cold. “I was… I… I had Lex take her home.”
Poor guy, looks even more confused. His chest rises hard and fast, curls plastering on his forehead from the rain. The sight of him drenched and breathless does things to me. Or maybe it’s just him. No matter what, he’s the one who will always undo me in ways it would be impossible to replicate.
“Ronnie, it’s raining…” he whispers, as if I couldn’t already tell. He leans down so we are almost at eye level. “Why are you here, soaked and standing outside in the cold?”
Lightning splits the sky, illuminating his features in a way that makes him seem godly. A small huff of air escapes my lips before I reply with the truth, “I wanted to see you.” I shrug. “I need you. It’s always about me, and for once, I just want it to be about you.” My hand moves towards his jaw, feeling the rough patches of stubble beneath my palm. His eyes close as he leans into my touch. “Ronnie.”
